worn penny and I let out a dreamy exhale thinking about last night.

I don't want to
let go. Neither do I, Dylan. The memory of his warm breath against my skin has my
heart doing a tap dance. I don't think I've ever wanted to be kissed by anyone so
badly in my entire life. The proximity of our bodies had my pulse racing so fast,
I'm
surprised I didn't pass out. "Hey, you decent?" Zoey's shril whisper startles me as
I stare at the penny, only seeing the little boy with the dimpled smile. "Ooooh,
what's
that?" I saw something sticking up out of the mud and leaned in to get a closer
look. I reached down to grab it from a clump of mud. "Cool! Look, Lenci," I held it
up, "it's a
lucky penny." "It's a los of like a muddy penny." He giggled "What are you gonna do
with it? It's gross." He scrunched up his face. "Who knows how many people's feet
have stepped all over that thing?" "So what? I'll wash it. There's something about
this penny. It's going to be very lucky for me," I said, smiling big and flipping
it between
my fingers, drops of mud and dirt staining my nails. "I don't think coins bring
people luck, Nacy. I think people make their own luck," he said, and when I frowned
he gave
me a funny look. "Okay, Okay. Give it to me." I handed him the penny and he wiped
it on his white baseball shirt until it was a little bit shiny. "You see," he held
it up in
front of my face, "now that the mud is gone, maybe you've got a shot at the luck."
He smiled with that dimple of his, and I did too. "Nacy." It takes me a second to
realize Zoey
is still at the door when I finally turn to acknowledge her. "Hey, stranger. Where
have you been?" I tuch the penny safely away in its purple pouch and place it back
in my
drawer. "I left you that note on the fridge. We had training for all the concierges
this week, so I've had to be at the hotel for double shifts." She falls back on the
bed with a
groan. "It sucks." "I bet." I plop down next to her, tugging at the sleeve of her
uniform. "I hope you washed this thing," I tease. "I'm kind of smelling some BO."
She lifts
up her arm and breathes in through hre nose. "You probably do, and you know what?
They can kiss my ads while they inhale. I'm so freaking tired they're lucky I'm
coming
in at all." "You tell'em. Besides, they can't fire you for smelling bad, can they?"
"Who knows?" She laughs. "It's the hotel business." She pushes herself up on her
elbows and
stared at me. "What?" "Hey, so are you al right?" There's a sudden shift in her
demeanor and she's talking to me like I'm fragile now. "The other night. I haven't
seen you
like that since after Mom and Dad died, and I'll be honest, Nacy, it scared me.
That's why I called Dylan. I knew needed him." There's that word again. Even the
idea of
it makes my chest seize up with fear. I ca not need Dylan that way. I just can't. I
refuse to need anyone that way again. But a part of me knows it's too late—because
I still
want him. And while the want takes up so much room in my heart, there's a fine line
and I am not sure I know how to separate the two. "I areciate you calling him,
really I
do, but I wish you hadn't." I lie back, lacing my hands behind my head while I
stare blankly at the ceiling. "Why not?" "Because... I ca't af ord to need him like
that.
Because I'm afraid—" "You'll lose him, too?" Hearing her say it out loud is enough
to send flares of panic through every cell in my body, crushed by an overwhelming
anxiety. I manage a nod and she places a gentle hand on my shoulder. "That's not
going to happen, Nacy. You have to stop thinking like that... please." "I don't
know if I
can. Anyway, I don't want you to worry. I'm good now." I lite down on my lower lip,
then release it. "I had a nightmare and it seemed to real, like I was there...
watching it
all." I touch a hand to my thigh, dread rising to the surface. Her brows lip low on
her forehead and she frowns. "I miss them so much, you know." I look away from her
then
and stare at a spot on the bookshelf, my voice barely audible. "They wouldn't have
been in the car that night if it hadn't been for me." "Nacy." She puls on my
sleeve, forcing
me to meet her eyes. "Don't do that. It's not your fault. It's just something
that... happened, out of our control. And you know Mom and Dad wouldn't want you
blaming
yourself. They would want you to keep living, and be happy." A somber smile edges
her lips. "I do't know if I've ever told you this, E, but I'm so glad you didn't go
that
night. I'm not sure I would have made it through if I'd lost you, too." "I'm not
going anywhere. I'm here and you're stuck with me."Guilt wriggles its way up my
throat
again but I force it back down, somehow managing to keep it at bay. Seemingly
satisfied with my response, her smile returns and she slides of the bed. "Good. All
right," she
takes a quick glance at the clock as she straightens her shirt, "back to the
grind." I fallow her out of the room and she stops so abruptly I almost slam into
her. "How's DW?"
"You mean Dylan?" I shoot her a glare to go wtih my tone. "He's good, why?" "Just
curious." She grins, then bounds away, calling back, "Geez, I almost forgot, you
have a
visitor. I'll catch you later." Little pricks of excitement cover my skin. Dylan. I
come down the stairs, delighted about my mysterious visitor, and the first thing I
see are red
converse attached to legs swinging over the side of a chair. "Nora?" "That's my
name, don't wear it out." She giggles, and I yank on her multi-colored ponytail as
I walk by.
"Are we back in fourth grade?" I settle onto the ottoman and snatch the Tic-Tacs
out of her hand, shaking them like a maraca. My eyes hone in on the label where
pink and
white candies are floating in the air. "Strawberry Fields. New flavor?" "Yup," she
grins, "and guess who I ran into at the store just now when I bought them?" "No
idea."
"Harold Klepmeier." She winces when she says it like something bad crawled into her
mouth and she's anxious to get it out. "Harold Klepmeier." I repeat his name as the
fond memories start pouring in. "And how is good old Harold?" "Cractly the same,"
she reveals, circling a hand in the air. "He was going on and at about himself and
the fact
that he's on his way to getting his law degree." She swivels her legs back onto the
ottoman. "And do you know what I was doing while he was droning on and on?" "No,
what?"
Mischief surrounds the creates of her eyes. "I was doing eeny, meenie, miny, mo
about which Tic-Tacs I should purchase." We both laugh and she adds, "He didn't
miss a
beat, though, kept right on talking. Too bad I was not listening." My stomach
twists briefly when the memory hits me. "Do you remember how he always used to call
me
'Brace Face,' or how he thought I had an eating disorder because I was to skinny?"
"Yeah, well, he's still an asshole. A major one." The twist in stomach becomes more
of
a colorful swirl. "You know what's funny, though? As awkward as I felt growing up,
I was happy. You, Dylan, my parents, you always made me feel... accepted." She
points to the Tic-Tacs and I hand them over. "That's because you were awesome.
Still are." I blow her a kiss and she catches it in her fist. "It's funny how no
one wanted to
pay attention to me when I was a weed, but once I started becoming a flower, they
all wanted to stop and take a whiff." Nora laughs a little, twirling her ponytail
around her
finger. "That's quite an analogy." "It's true, though, but at that point the only
people I cared about were the ones who loved me when I was a weed." I cluck my
tongue
against my teeth. "Like you." She reaches behind her for a pilow and toses it at my
face. "That's because I was a weed, too. And us weeds have to stick together." "We
sure
do." I giggle as I squeeze the pillow, bunching it under my chin. "So, how's your
mom?" "She's good." She piles her ponytail on top of her head, a tiny furrow
appearing
between her brows. "When I left she was working in the garden She's been acting a
bit weird lately." "Weird, how?" I turn to face her and her eyes sail upward in
thought
"Hmph. I can't pinpoint exactly what it is. But I know something's going on. That's
what my psychic powers tell me anyway. Like right now." Pausing to examine me, she
gazes at my face with intense focus. "My powers are telling me that there's a
reason you're glowing." "I'm not glowing," I protest, even though my cheeks are
warm and the
pink is spreading to my ears. "You're being ridiculous." "Okay, so humor me. Tell
me about my ridiculousness." The smirk on her lips is a tell-tale sign. She knews
she has
me cornered. I press the pillow to my chest for comfort. "I've never thought I
could ever have a chance with Dylan... because," I shrug, "he doesn't look at me
that way.
But," I chew on the inside of my lip, "I don't know. Something's changed, I think.
I can't pinpoint waht it is. But whatever it is, I like it, and I want more."
Playfulness
stirs in her green eyes. "By more, I'm assuming you mean, groping him and ripping
his clothes off?" I smack her with the pillow but can't deny the desire pooling in
my core.
"Yeah, okay, maybe a little of that, too." "A little? Have you seen Dylan recently?
I will take all of that for a thousand, please."Our laughter spils out into the air
until an
all too familiar voice brings it to a screeching halt. "Nacy?" I freeze and my eyes
nearly bug out of my head. "Oh, shit. He's here," I whisper to Nora, who can't seem
to wipe
the smug grin of her face. "Lock up those dirty thoughts," I wink then stand up,
"for how." I rush over to the door, conjuring up my best 'I wasn't just thinking
about
mauling you' expression. He doesn't make it easy for me, though. His jeans are far
too low on his hips, his bronze shin peeking out from a snug t-shirt, muscular
forearms
flexing as he sets something down on the porch. "Hey." Rich, brown eyes lock on
mine and I'm lost in their depths, my mind wiped of all coherent thought, and,
apparently
words. A slow grin spreads across his face, and my belly does a series of
somersaults in return. "Ek hem." Nora creates a noise to broadcast her presence and
breaks us out of
our trance. "Oh, hey, Nora." "Dylan," she nods, "I was just leaving." She tosses
her ponytail over her shoulder. "Call me later, Nacy. See ya, Dylan." She Squeezes
by him
and through the doorway, making sure to rub it in by doing something that resembles
a pelvic thrust behind his back. "Later." Dylan watches her as she gets in the car
then
turns back to me. "She's still strange." "I love her that way. So, are you going to
come in?" I ask, trying to scope out what's under the blanket that he's now bending
down to
pick up. "Yes. I have a present for you." The giddy twelve-year-old in me jumps for
joy. "What is it? Is it a puppy?" "Hmph, no." He places the surprise on the table
in
front of the piano. "I do't make a habit of smothering puppies. They're too cute."
"Oh, right." I giggle, and he points to the sofa, gesturing for me to sit down.
"You ready?"
His excitement is contagious and my heart rate kicks up a notch. He pinches the
fabric with twa fingers and lifts it off: "Voila." I'm quiet as I stare at the
cement statue with
the big belly and happy grin. My silence and expression must convey disappointment
because the smile falls from his face. "You do not like it?" "No, it's not that." I
try to
aear thrilled, even though I have no idea what the heck it is. "What is it?" "Oh!"
He laughs, relieved. "It's a Buddha. For your meditation." "My what?" He looks at
me like